TROUBLE ━━━━━━━
(shelby sister!oc x peaky blinders)
Peaky Blinders, season one - six
━━━━━━━
IN WHICH, Clara Shelby must
come to terms with the fact
that life is changing for her
and her ragtag family.
( extended summary inside )
━━━...
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☆
CLARA SHELBY HATED HOSPITALS— she despised them in fact. It was a burning hatred, one that ignited every atom of rage and dislike within. She hated the bright, blinding lights, she hated the antiseptic smell that cling to each surface and lingered on the inside of the nose. She hated the barren hallways that heeled boots and shoes clattered against. She hated the pinch-faced nurses with their condescending tones and their wandering and prying eyes.
She hated hospitals so deeply, which is why she strode alongside two doctors with a scowl across her face as they made their way through the hospital. She attempted to soothe her qualms but even the dose of cocaine she had taken did little to help.
"You must understand, Miss Shelby, his injuries were extensive. He may not be willing to see you today." The doctor explained as he turned and led her down a dark and ominous corridor. The girl suppressed her shudder as her boots clicked against the floor. Her hands were tucked deep into her trousers as her shirt and coat provided warmth in the eerie and cold environment.
"Hm...wouldn't be the first time. " the girl merely responded as her eyes fixed on the door that came into view ahead of them. The bricked hallway felt damp and uninviting as they approached the closed door. The doctor put his hand out to stop her from going any further as he sucked in a breath and opened the hospital room door.
"Mr Shelby? You have a visitor." Clara could hear him say calmly. She couldn't hear Tommy's response but she presumed it had been some unintelligible grunt. The doctor lingered halfway in the hospital room as Clara stood firm and unmoving, her eyes narrowed on the shadow of a man hidden beyond the door.
"Alright, in you go, Ms Shelby," the doctor cleared his throat as he gestured for her to enter. Clara shifted her stance as she took a deep breath in and moved to cross the threshold of the hospital room.
The girl was hit with a sharp smell once she entered. The disinfectant smelt almost acidic and made all of the hairs inside her nose fry. She was acquainted with the smell; it would forever be distinct.
"So what are they dosing you up with?" Clara commented as she stopped in the centre of the room behind Tommy who was standing by the far wall, smoking a cigarette. "Morphine?"
Tommy didn't answer. She didn't expect him to. Her eyes trailed from his still body towards the walls and the surrounding room. The room was miserable in layman's terms. It felt damp and cold, the windows high up the wall did little to brighten the dark room. A singular hospital bed lay against the far wall, a singular chair placed haphazardly beside it. God knows who used it. The girl shrivelled her nose in disgust. The room felt heavy– if it ever could feel like anything. Clara felt it in her soul, the weight the room added. It seemed to diminish any flicker of glee or hope that dared reside.
"What? Couldn't splurge and get a better room?" Clara remarked, idly moving across the room as she sat on the bed. "Christ," she moved on the bed to bounce slightly. "This is hard as a rock. If your little brain injury won't kill you, this bed definitely will, good lord!"
